Sanday, Orkney
SOUND
Promotional Recordings of all works are available. Please fill out the contact form on the Contact Page stating the works you are interested in. Excerpts below and elsewhere on this website are all copyright, for promotional use only and not for commercial dissemination.
HAYAGRIVA Fragment 1
Schoenberg Ensemble/Micha Hamel
HAYAGRIVA Fragment 2
Schoenberg Ensemble/Micha Hamel
. . . beyond the reach of the world . . . excerpt
Rohan de Saram, solo cello, Sound Festival 2009
From the opera BLACK FEATHER RISING
Soprano: Charlotte Riedijk
SHE: There was a dream that came to you,
When you passed from boy to man.
Away, far, far,
alone in a lonely place
you waited . . .
silent . . .
still . . .
day; night; day; night . . .
for a dream to come to you,
to tell you your name.
HE: Dream . . .
Name . . .
From the opera BLACK FEATHER RISING
Baritone: Alistair Shelton-Smith
HE: Shells . . .
They make me see again . . .
I am boy . . .
I make a necklace of shells . . .
In these hands . . .
They are to be my token as a man . . .
I see that!
West-Wind-Rising, you work a wonder here!
Shells, yes . . .
THEATRE OF MAGICAL BEINGS - UROBORUS excerpt
Schoenberg Ensemble conducted by Micha Hamel, Amsterdam November 2003
Grandfather's Holiday
From the Song Cycle WHEELING PAST THE STARS
Soprano: Patricia Rozario
Violoncello: Rohan de Saram
Blue sky, paddy fields, grandchild’s play,
Deep ponds, diving-stage, child’s holiday;
Tree shade, barn corners, catch-me-if-you-dare,
Undergrowth, pârul-bushes, life without care.
Green paddy all a-quiver, hopeful as a child,
Child prancing, river dancing, waves running wild.
Bespectacled grandfather old man am I,
Trapped in my work like a spiderwebbed fly,
Your games are my games, my proxy holiday,
Your laugh the sweetest music I shall ever play.
Your joy is mine, my mischief in your eyes,
Your delight the country where my freedom lies.
Autumn sailing in, now, steered by your play,
Bringing white siuli-flowers to grace your holiday.
Pleasure of the chilly air tingling me at night,
Blown from Himâlaya on the breeze of your delight.
Dawn in Âsvin, flower-forcing roseate sun,
Dressed in the colours of a grandchild’s fun.
Flood my study with your leaps and your capers,
Work gone, books flying, avalanche of papers.
Arms round my neck, in my lap bounce thump –
Hurricane of freedom in my heart as you jump.
Who has taught you, how he does it, I shall never know –
You’re the one who teaches me to let myself go.